


Hideaway

by zeldadestry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-10
Updated: 2010-09-10
Packaged: 2017-10-11 15:42:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeldadestry/pseuds/zeldadestry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had many memories of being comfortable, of having plenty of food and a roof over his head and a warm bed, but so few of being comforted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hideaway

**Author's Note:**

> Different version of the story that became "Looking West", started back then, finished now.

Sirius can always find places to go and people to see but during the past few weeks he's kept himself from the where and who he most seeks. It's Friday night, moving quickly towards Saturday morning, but he's alone in his flat.

He tells Remus that the reason he crashes at his place most Friday nights is because it's around the corner from his favorite pub, but the truth is that he frequents that pub precisely because of its proximity to Remus. Stopping in at Remus's in the middle of the night, drunk, is all due to one extremely tempting motive: he wants to be wherever Remus is. It's as simple as that, but lately he's not sure of his welcome.

He'd only tried to help Remus. It wasn't his fault if he didn't really know how. He had many memories of being comfortable, of having plenty of food and a roof over his head and a warm bed, but so few of being comforted. Sirius remembers stupid things when he's alone, that's one of his problems, he remembers things he'd rather forget. He takes down his firewhiskey from the top shelf of the bookcase and pours himself a glass.

His father once claimed the only worthwhile thing Muggles did was rely on their fists. "Most of our kind prefer to use their brains and wands," he said, before setting upon Sirius, "but surviving a beating has its own honor. Consider this a gift." Afterwards, Regulus dug into his secret stash of Honeyduke's chocolate and brought a huge piece to his older brother. Ashamed of his wounds, embarrassed by the kindness, Sirius had taken the gift and thrown it to the floor in front of his brother, smashed it with his boot without a word. "I hate you!" Regulus had shouted, shoving Sirius in a sore spot, his whole body was sore, and running away. Sirius stared after him, relieved that he had managed to suppress the urge to hit his brother again and again, to teach him about pain and that sweets offered no consolation for it.

He and Regulus both grew up with more to fear than their parents. His extended family long ago learned how to prevent the Ministry from interfering in their affairs. As soon as they were allowed wands the children used magic freely, without any government official ever realizing. Bellatrix's talent for Cruciatius developed early, and her attacks made Sirius feel like his insides were being carved up, a pain that sometimes did not cease for as long as an hour after she stopped her game. Andromeda would rescue him, fight her sister for his sake. "Don't cry," she would implore him, once Bellatrix was defeated. "Please, please, don't cry. That's what she wants, don't you understand?"

Yes, he's known James's hand at his shoulder, anytime things hadn't gone as planned, and the two words his friend reserved for such situations: next time. James believes in both the invincible and the inevitable; he'd won over Lily, therefore everything they want will come their way, eventually. But Sirius couldn't just give Remus back what James gives to him. Sirius knows better than that. Remus is his friend, of course, but Sirius also loves him, and it would be a lie to treat Remus as though he were only a friend.

He's had so little practice at giving comfort. The dog knows far better than he. He should have turned into Padfoot the instant he saw Remus's shoulders shake. Instead, he'd rushed across the room and thrown his arms around Remus, pressing kisses all over his face, his throat. Remus didn't kiss back and, once he'd recovered from the surprise of being set upon, pulled away. "Sorry," Sirius said, glowering and not at all repentant. What the hell was he supposed to do when he apparated into Remus's apartment for a surprise visit and found him crying, for god's sake? Damn the circumstances, Remus with tears in his eyes required immediate action.

Remus reached into his closet and pulled out the wool coat Sirius had given him for Christmas the year before. "Nothing to be sorry for," he said, slipping it on. "Shall we go for a walk?

"Alright." Sirius always enjoyed admiring Remus in that coat. He looked delicious in royal blue.

Sirius drinks three more glasses of firewhiskey trying to make up his mind. By the time he gets to Remus's, the world is spinning. Usually, when he arrives after one, he finds Remus in the bathroom, brushing his teeth in his pajamas, or at his kitchen table, one last cup of tea in front of him as he puts the finishing touches on the Daily Prophet crossword. Tonight both the kitchen and the bathroom are empty and, when Sirius pushes open the door to the bedroom, he finds Remus sitting up in bed, reading. "Moony? You alright?"

"I'm fine. You, on the other hand - how drunk are you on a scale of one to ten?"

"Not drunk enough." He walks into the room and sits down at the foot of the bed.

"Just get in and sleep it off," Remus says, like he always does. Sirius gratefully obeys. Remus puts aside his book before he turns off the light, and they settle in beside each other. Close, Sirius thinks, this is closer than he's been to Remus for weeks now, but it's still not enough. And the fear he's been trying to avoid, hold back, washes over him, that he is nothing, will always be nothing, and will never have, hold, what he wants. He sighs into the dark, a defeated sound. Remus's hand at his shoulder is all there is, all that matters is his soft voice, murmuring, "What is it?"

Sirius reaches his hand up to cover Remus's. "Moony," he says, "I missed you."

"I missed you, too."

"You did?"

"Yes."

"I thought you might still be angry with me."

"For what?"

"Because I kissed you."

"Why did you?"

"Because you were crying."

"Was that the only reason?"

"What?"

"Was that the only reason, because you felt sorry for me?"

"I didn't feel sorry for you, I just wanted you to feel better."

"So, in your fantastically conceited mind all anyone needs is your lips to be happy?"

"No. I mean, yes, but also because-"

"Yes?"

Sirius figures if he's going to make a declaration, it might as well be a big one. "I wanted to. I always want to."

Remus rolls over on his side and Sirius follows, so that they're facing each other. Remus is smiling. "So glad to hear it," he whispers, and finally returns the kiss.


End file.
